The Man They Called Universe
by My.Freedom.My.Sorrow.Jaylen
Summary: The worth of any man, women, boy, girl, or anywhere in between or not at all, is only measured by his acknowledgement by those around them. If a child calls himself king, he is only a mere peasant if those around him treat him so. A child that washes his hands could dine with kings, a child who bloodies his hands can dine with criminals.
1. Prologue

**The Man They Called Universe**

…

 **PROLOGUE**

…

There are people in places that go beyond what the average people can comprehend.

Their existence is only vague in one place, places where they have gone before or never been.

In the next place their existence has blown beyond life itself, and their fate is key, and they hold in turn the fate of the whole world in palm.

The worth of any man, women, boy, girl, or anywhere in between or not at all, is only measured by his acknowledgement by those around them.

If a child calls himself king, he is only a mere peasant if those around him treat him so.

If a child calls himself sane, he is insane if deemed so by those around him.

A child that washes his hands could dine with kings, a man who bloodies his hands can dine with criminals- blood heritage, prestige, accomplishment, and title have no meaning beyond identification for others about you.

There are people who have been everything. They have begun as nothing and become everything. They have begun as everything but faded to nothing.

Existence is a fleeting gift experience by the mortal, longer than life itself for many.

But there is no existence to the one who is never seen or acknowledge, who has never created ripples in waters seen by others.

What is to verify an existence, if no one can claim in truth that something ever existed? Those are called legend, or lies, or myths. Mysteries and stories of people once told but never proven, the ripples they made seen by too few and unproven beyond.

No less, those people live in shadows. They create ripples but they themselves are never seen.

These people do not exist, but the things they have done exist.

Existence is proven.

These people are rare and few between. The places they go will never be seen by the people of places they've been before.

The worlds they have seen are beyond comprehension to the next or to the last.

But are these people real? Are the places they go real if no one in the last or the next have seen another?

Fiction.

The people who live in other places are fiction, and the places are fiction, and the people who cross between these places? They aren't even fiction, they are wisps of dreams and shadows combined with confusion and enigma.

They are nonexistent.

The nonexistent amongst fictional realms, the dark matter between empty space.

Fiction and nonexistence do not exist at all.

This is the truth people of any place use to shield themselves from things that cannot be comprehended.

Unless they are Travelers.

The people who do not exist.

But amongst the people who do not exist is a single person who does not _exist_ , but a person who has existed none the less in more ways, by more names, by more places.

He existed only to the few who understood just what he was- but what he was, was not comprehensible.

Only those who did not exist saw his existence, as he was one of them, a being who did not live and a being who lived all at once.

He was a well traveled man, and his creation never happened but he still moved, he still traveled, he still thrived, though he was a man who was never born, a man who at one time did not exist or live, and then the next he did, but only as an unproven myth.

Where he came from was the mystery, just what he was was not possible, and where he went could never be deciphered.

The ones who do not exist called him by many things.

The people who claimed to have known him as his home called him the Snake Prince.

The people who he passed called him The Traveler.

The places he devastated in rage called him The Ender.

The places where they loved him called him The Father.

The people and places he ruled called him Code Green.

He was a man of many names, but in every world he existed, he lived, he did not exist, and he did not live.

They called him The Universe.


	2. Runaway

**The Man They Called Universe**

…

"Where are you going to go?"

The question itself was fair, and made sense. The voice behind it was confused and unsure, which to the addressee, wasn't so normal.

A hand paused in its thumbing through papers of a hand-written journal, and looked up to the speaker.

He had not expected running into anyone as he made his leave. Especially not him.

"Kal." He responded back on a tone dull with a lack of emotion, expression just as so. "…Why are you in here?"

Kal was his adoptive brother, by law. He was the person- note, _person_ \- that he had known longest in his life, much younger than him but looking a few years older. Kal looked to be entering the age of 19 now, but the expressionless man himself, looked only 15, 16 tops. Neither one was actually so young as they looked; eyes do play tricks.

Kal certainly wasn't one to look nervous- upon the usual, he was brash, and aggressive- or the opposite, lighthearted and outgoing. Never nervous, never unsure, though.

"You shouldn't go." Was what Kal answered with; it wasn't an answer to what had been asked. "Midori- Midori-"

"Mother Midori is dead." Was the hot response- it was as cold and blank in tone as before, and the younger looking man's expression did not change, but his posture shifted aggressively and after being around him for so long, Kal could feel his anger rolling like waves.

The younger of the brothers looked down at the ground sharply. "Her- Mother's funeral-"

"They all _die_ , Kal." Cut in the older, looking back down at his book. "You're ageing is slowing down like mine. You'll see, Kal. All your parents die, one family after another. You'll be glad they do, Mother Midori will be the only exception. I'm not staying around to be put in another foster home here."

"Koyol, where are you going?" Kal asked quicker this time, giving name to the man so far in our story without one.

Koyol looked over his shoulder at his brother. "I'm going to a place." Was all he said. "I'm going somewhere, that's all I know."

Kal looked at the ground. "The princess won't be pleased. Neither will Teacher."

" _ty che, suka, o'khuel blya?"_ Cruel words rolling off in their mother tongue, language so foul that it made his brother redden over his earthy brown tone. Kal was an enigma, as while most of their home village had been white, pale, pinkish, Kal had been born with a skin tone like bronze.

Their mother called him 'Nutmeg' for it.

Koyol had been born with scales as black as night, black tar with the faintest undertones of purple.

She joked once and called him 'midnight' for it.

When he developed the green skin, she had happily called him an Olive and laughed for 5 minutes full, amused with how clever she thought she was.

He missed her.

She would be the only mother he'd ever had that he would miss.

And now, She was dead.

" _piiiiz'dets, blyaaaa!_ " His emotionless tone sounded frightening when raised to such volumes, when the air around him burned with anger. "Be gone, _suka_ , leave! I have lived a hundred years without people to call true family! I will not need her nor you!"

"K-"

" _net!_ " he snapped, turning around fully after slamming his book down on a metal table, echoing loudly in the underground bunker-like room. "Koyol was the name of the son of Midori! Koyol was the name of that family's boy, and that family is no more!"

It was almost hateful when the green skinned boy leaned toward his younger brother, and with an expressionless and icily empty tone, hissed "We are no longer brothers. Koyol is gone with Midori!"

Koyol had known Kal long before Midori. They had been friends long before, and such words hurt them both; most obviously Kal, who's face twisted in shock and pain.

"Not brothers?" Kal was certainly winded. "My family disowned me for you, and you push me aside?"

" _My parents have all tried to kill me_." Koyol's voice was strained with the lowness of it's quiet. "What is disowning in comparison? Find a new family, Kal, because ours died with _her_."

Koyol spun back around, grabbed his book, grabbed a black bag waiting by a door, and walked in before locking it behind him, each of the thick 7 locks firmly in place and double checked as quick as he could move.

There was a sudden banging on the door behind him when he turned away, and frantic calls of his dead name, and of many names he'd had before, and the sound of his brother in panic.

With no more to say, and only the desire to leave, one green skinned hand reached up and gently touched a large, earth green square-cute gem, held onto his person by a black choker necklace.

Closing his eyes, he willed it alive, and the Universe opened before him when his eyes opened, in the shape of a bright, white rectangular shape, glowing with a sourceless light.

 _Take me anywhere._ His mind whispered. _Take me away, anywhere you can, just let me leave all of this behind._

All of this training to be a prince, all of these people who saw him as an aboniation, all of these memories of pain, all of these agonizing ties people called relationships, all of these people trying to teach him things he didn't want, all of these restrictions and expectations and limits…

 _Take me anywhere that I can be free._

He stepped through universe's door, and in the moments, scarcer than milliseconds, he was nothing and he was everything, within and beyond the universe itself.


End file.
